True Madness
by riley-poole27
Summary: Thirteen year old Riley Poole, nervously auditions for the high school production of Hamlet, alongside eleventh grader Ben Gates. The two teens quickly become friends, as they work closely together.
1. The Audition

Riley walked into the auditorium, and stared uneasily at the crowd of older teenagers. He nervously chewed on the drawstring cord of his hoody, as he listened to them chatter excitedly. Today was the big day, auditions for the upcoming Hamlet play. The moment Mr. Foster, the drama teacher, announced at the assembly that they would be doing Hamlet, Riley had downloaded the entire play on his kindle. He'd practised for the past two weeks alone in his bedroom, and even gotten his mom to help him memorize certain passages. He'd gone online and studied the characters as well as he could. And yet, after all that preparation, Riley still didn't feel ready.

_I need to ace this_, He thought to himself, as he scanned the room for a familiar face. There were forty or so drama kids, a few jocks, and a small handful of kids from his computer science class. He lifted his hand to wave at them, but they ignored him. Riley's face went beet red, as he stared down at the floor.

It was his first year at Chancellor Prep, the all-boys school. Smack dab in the middle of Maryland. Riley had skipped grade eight, going straight into grade nine. The transition from junior high to high school was tough. He was only thirteen, and Riley had still not started puberty. He was a short, scrawny genius with glasses, and a big mouth. Most of his classmates towered over him. Riley found them to be intimidating.

So far, in the three weeks that he'd attended Chancellor Prep, Riley had not made a single friend. At his mother's request, Riley had tried out for soccer, rugby, and swimming. He'd been cut from every team. He'd joined the glee club, and the chess club to try and meet people, but the older boys weren't very receptive.

Riley was sick of eating lunch alone, sitting on the grey, metal bleachers every day. He wanted to feel included. Riley watched enviously as his classmates sat on the field, chatting enthusiastically, and laughing. _They look so happy_, he thought. He yearned to have a group of friends to hang out with, so he wouldn't have to feel so lost and alone anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if he joined the production of Hamlet, people would start to know his name. Possibly even sit with him at lunch, or invite him to parties. Maybe some of the drama kids would say hi to him in the hallways, instead of the steady onslaught of unfamiliar faces and jostling students. He just wanted to feel less alone.

Riley stole a glance at the crowd, and that's when Riley first saw him. The most amazing guy he'd ever set eyes on. The teen was sitting at the very back of hte auditorium, and was wearing a black button-up shirt tucked in at the waist, and brown hiking boots. He was lanky, his long legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. The teen's dark brown hair was long and swept back. Riley was smitten.

As luck would have it, the seat beside the lanky teenager was empty, and Riley quickly rushed up the steps before anyone else could claim the empty seat.

"Is this seat taken?" RIley asked, nervously. His voice was way too high, and it cracked on the word 'take'. Awkward.

The teen was reading a paperback, and he glanced up at Riley. He shook his head. "Go ahead," He said.

Riley slid into the seat beside him, and hugged his straining backpack to his chest.

"Big crowd, huh?" He said, leaning closer to read the title of the boy's paperback. "I'm Riley."

"Ben Gates," the guy responded, putting his book down. It was a biography of Paul Revere.

_Ben. What an amazing name_, Riley thought, as he grinned at him. "Is that for one of your classes?" Riley asked, pointing to the book.

Ben shook his head. "No, I just picked it up in the library yesterday. Thought it looked interesting."

"Is it?" Riley asked, surprised.

"Very."

The drama teacher stood up, and walked up the stairs to the stage. "Alright! Everyone, quiet please. Welcome to the open auditions for our fall production of Hamlet. As you know, we only have enough roles for half of you, but we are also looking for lighting crew, costume designers, and stage hands. We'll be auditioning you guys in pairs. Now, when I call your name, please stand up and join me on stage."

Riley leaned forward, his knee jiggling nervously. He didn't notice Ben glancing at him, as his entire focus was on the stage.

"Riley, calm down. It's just a high school audition," Ben whispered.

Riley's palms were sweating, as he craned his neck to hear Mr. Foster call out the first two actors. _Please don't let me be first_, he thought anxiously. He felt faint.

"Mark Castillo, and Jeremy Swann!" Mr. Foster yelled out. There was a bit of polite clapping from the audience, as the first two boys ran on stage to audition.

"Oh, God. I don't think I can do this," He whispered to Ben. "I'm way too nervous."

"How old are you?" Ben asked, curious.

"Thirteen."

"Is this your first year at Chancellor?" Ben asked.

Riley nodded. "Yeah. I skipped eighth grade," Riley said. "Went straight to grade nine."

"Huh," Ben said, putting a hand on Riley's shoulder. "Is this your first audition?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. It gets easier. You're probably just nervous."

Two more students were called up, and read the part for Hamlet and Laertes. Throughout the next hour, the crowd dwindled as each student got their turn on stage. Finally, Ben and Riley were the last students to audition.

"We're up," Ben told him. Riley followed him, his stomach fluttering. This was it – his only chance to impress the drama teacher.

"Hamlet or Laertes?" Mr. Foster asked him. Riley plucked Laertes' lines out of the teacher's grasp with shaking hands, and looked down at the paper. The words were intimately familiar, he'd been practising for weeks. _This should be a piece of cake_, he thought, as he stared down at the highlighted lines.

He heard Ben start his lines. "Give me your pardon, sir. I've done you wrong. . ."

Riley's knees nearly buckled, as he waited for his turn. Finally, it was his chance to speak. Riley opened his mouth, and froze. Nothing came out. He stood stricken. _No, no, no. Please no._

"Riley!" Ben said, loudly.

Riley's head snapped up, and he stared at Ben with his large, blue eyes. He took a deep breath.

"I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive in this case, should stir me the most . . ." Riley started, straightening up. He easily delivered the lines, the words flew out of his mouth with ease. All that practise had paid off. He nailed the audition.

Once they were done, Mr. Foster shook both boy's hands. "Excellent audition," He said. "We'll have the cast list posted next week. Check the bulletin board. You guys did really good."

Riley heaved a sigh of relief, grabbed his backpack, and ran out of the auditorium. He still felt jittery.

"Wait!" Ben called out, running after him. Riley slowed down.

"You did really good!" Ben said. "I was kind of worried when you froze up, but you did great! I hope you get a part!"

Riley stopped walking, and looked at him in surprise. "But – I froze up! I totally screwed it up, there's no way I'm getting a part. Maybe they'll let me do lighting, or something."

"No, you did great!" Ben said, excitedly. "You're a natural!"

"I am?" Riley asked, hesitantly.

"Of course!"

Riley couldn't help but beam at him. _A natural, Him_? The compliment from Ben made his heart flutter, as he looked up at the older boy with pride.

"You're not just messing with me, are you?" Riley asked, suspicious.

Ben looked at him, surprised. "No," He said, gravely. "I'm not messing with you."

Riley believed him. As they walked down the hallway, Riley noticed he barely reached Ben's shoulder.

"Got any plans for lunch?" Ben asked him, as they walked to the cafeteria. Riley shook his head.

"Want to sit with me?" Ben asked, as they stood in the line to buy their meal.

"Sure," Riley told him, his eyes lighting up.


	2. Ophelia

Midway through chemistry, the intercom sparked to life. It was the principal, Mr. Conrad. Normally, Riley tuned the man out, as he found his voice to be annoying. But he held his breath, and listened, his head tilted to the side as he struggled to hear the principal's crackly voice over the ancient intercom system.

"Attention Chancellor Prep!" The principal spoke, with a monotonous voice. "We are pleased to announce that has posted the cast list for Hamlet outside of the office. Please make sure to check on your lunch hour."

Riley was elated. Finally! He thought, his heart leaping in his chest. Riley had waited all week for the cast list to be posted, his stomach clenched with anticipation. He desperately wanted a part in the play, even if he didn't get any lines or anything. Riley was determined to do anything – paint sets, do the lighting booth, sell tickets, be an usher, help with costumes, anything. If only time didn't go so slowly!

He had his heart set on playing Laertes. The character intrigued him, and Laertes' lines were his favourite to read. Crossing his fingers under his desk, Riley listened to the other students work on their assignments, as he watched the clock tick slowly. Half an hour before they were released for lunch, that felt like an eternity, as Riley struggled to focus on his work.

By the time the bell rang, Riley had already packed his books, and had been anxiously standing at the door, waiting for the buzzer to ring. The kids spilled out into the hallway, and Riley had to dart between teens in his mad rush to make it to the first floor.

By the time he made it to the bulletin board, there was already a crowd of drama students.

"Alright!" A tall, Filipino boy named Mark shouted, high-fiving his friend. "I'm gonna be Horatio!"

"Who's on the list?" Riley asked, straining to see. He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, and tapped his foot impatiently. "Am I on the list?" He asked a senior, who he vaguely remembered auditioning as Hamlet.

"I didn't get a part," The senior said, glumly, as he stepped away from the board.

Riley stood on his tiptoes, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other, as he struggled in vain to see over his classmate's heads.

"Come on, come on," He muttered, using his elbows to try and push further into the crowd. The boys were unyielding. Riley had to wait nearly ten minutes, before the crowd had dispersed enough for him to see the list. Riley quickly ran his finger down the list of boy's names, hoping to see his own name. He paused at Ben Gates' name, glad to see that Ben had been cast as Hamlet's understudy.

He'd made it! Riley excitedly tapped the sheet with his index finger, ecstatic.

"YES!" He shouted. "I GOT A PART!"

The sudden rush of elation he felt was dampened slightly when he read which character he'd be playing. Ophelia.

"Oh, Holy Lord," Riley whispered, stricken. He'd be playing a chick. So much for getting the role of Laertes, now he was set to play Hamlet's crazy, suicidal girlfriend. Just great.

"What's up?" A familiar voice asked him. Riley spun around. Ben was leaning against the wall, quietly watching him.

"I'm cast as Ophelia," Riley said, darkly. "I made it into the cast, but I'm cast as Ophelia."

Ben grinned. "That's great!" He said. "Why do you look so miserable?"

Riley's eyes went wide. "Dude – Ophelia's a chick! I'll probably have to wear a dress!"

Ben laughed. "Riley, you go to an all-boy's school! Someone's got to play the female roles."

"I guess," Riley said. "But why'd it have to be me?"

Ben looked at the page. "Look – Jerry Simmons is going to play Gertrude," He said. "Besides, it's actually not that uncommon. In fact, during the 1600's the roles of women were filled by young boys, and they'd wear dresses and make –up. I'm sure you'll do fine."

Riley looked surprised. "Really?" He asked. "How do you even know stuff like that?"

"I wrote an essay on the Globe theatre last year."

"Oh."

"Hey, at least you got a part! Normally, they only cast boys in the older grades. I think you're one of the only ninth graders in the play."

"Yeah, but I _wanted_ to be Laertes," Riley sniffed. "And I got cast as his sister instead. This blows."

Ben laughed, and gave him a sympathetic look. "Ophelia's a pretty cool character."

"She's a suicidal, crazy girl who drowns herself. How is that cool?"Riley asked.

Ben shrugged. "She is pretty interesting. You should do a bit of research on her when you get home tonight."

"Okay," Riley said, following Ben into the cafeteria. They bought sandwiches, and cartons of chocolate milk and went outside. It was really hot out, so Ben used his jacket as a blanket, and they sat on the grass. It was like a make-shift picnic, Riley thought, as he took a bite of his food.

He liked listening to Ben talk, liked the way the older boy got so engrossed in his storytelling, that his sandwich sat forgotten in its plastic wrap. When the bell rang, Ben quickly unwrapped it, and scarfed it down as they walked back to the school.

"So, maybe we should get together and practise this weekend," Riley suggested. "I mean, you're Hamlet's understudy. You have to know all the lines by heart."

Ben nodded. "You seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the lines at the audition. That would definitely come in handy."

Riley nodded, emphatically. "Yeah, my place or yours?" He asked.

Riley was hoping desperately that Ben would invite him over. Ben had already told him that he lived with his mom, in a nice two-storey house. He lived near the University, because his mom was a professor.

"Mine," Ben said. He ripped out a sheet of paper from his notebook, and jotted down his phone number and address. "How's Saturday afternoon?" He asked.

"That works for me," Riley said, relieved. "I'll see you then." He folded the paper in half, and tucked it into his backpack. They parted ways, and Riley ran to his English class.

He knew his own apartment would probably look pretty shabby in comparison. He lived in a tiny two bedroom apartment above a convenience store. His mom wasn't rich, and she had to constantly take extra shifts to keep the rent paid. His dad lived out in Iowa, and was supposed to pay child support every month, but they rarely saw the money.

Mrs. Carlyle was writing on the white board, and luckily, had her back turned to him. He easily slipped into his seat, and took out his binder. The last thing he wanted was detention for being late, especially since he had to catch the bus after school. If he missed the bus, he only had two options – walk the eight miles home, or pay a fare on the city transit. And Riley had no money. He hated taking the city bus, it was often filled with homeless drunks that would hassle you for spare change, or crowded with college kids.

Sometimes, Riley felt guilty that he was enrolled at Chancellor Prep, because he knew that even though his scholarship paid for his tuition, the commute and the extra costs really racked up. School lunch program, textbooks, registration fees for various sports, yearbook fees, school supplies. He vowed that as soon as he hit sixteen, Riley would get a part-time job to help offset the costs. Especially since he had University to save up for.

His mom was determined to get him into the best schools. MIT was on the top of the list, as well as Maryland University (which would enable him to still live at home, instead of paying for the costly dorm room.)

But that was still five years away. A lifetime of work lay before him before he was able to graduate, never mind think about college applications.


	3. Ben's research

That Saturday, Riley got his mom to drop him off at Ben's house.

"Don't stay over too late," His mom told him, as he got out of the car. "I'll need you home at eight, to get all your homework done."

Riley gave her a half-smile. "Yeah," He said. "I'll be staying over for dinner. But I'll be back tonight. I have to study for my test tonight."

He slammed the car door shut, and ran up the driveway to knock on the front door. He used the large, brass knocker, which was a heavy lion's head. The woman who answered the door was short, with curly white-blonde hair, and a stern look.

"Yes?" She asked, staring down at Riley. "Are you selling something? I'm very busy."

"Is Ben home?" Riley asked, nervously.

" . . . You're here for my son?" She asked, surprised. "Come in, I'll go get him."

He waited in the foyer, looking curiously at the oil paintings on the wall, and the large bookcase filled with leather-bound books. Everything looked so antique, and fancy. He felt so out of place.

Riley turned around, when he heard Ben and Emily walk down the stairs. He looked pleased to see Riley.

"Riley, this is my mom," He said. "She's a professor at the University. She works in the linguistics department."

Riley gulped, and ducked his head as Ben introduced him.

"Mom, this is Riley Poole. We're both in Hamlet. I invited him over to practise lines," Ben told her, proudly putting an arm around Riley's shoulders.

Emily shook his hand, firmly. "Pleased to meet you, Riley," She said. "If you'll excuse me, boys, I have a lot of work to do this afternoon. Feel free to practise upstairs. Will you be staying for supper, Riley?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Emily nodded, curtly. "Alright." She gave the boys a tiny smile, as she watched them run upstairs. _He seemed like a polite kid_, she thought to himself. _A bit quiet, but nice enough. _

It was good to see Ben hanging out with peers, even if Riley was a few years younger than him. Emily had been so worried about her son, since the divorce last year. Ben had thrown himself further into his quest to find the Templar Treasure, spending hours on his computer. It had gotten to the point, where he stayed up all hours of the night, poring over old documents, and reading up on theories online. Many of his 'friends' were actually, middle-aged scholars he frequently emailed. But he rarely brought people home from school.

She was glad that he was interacting with his peers, like a normal child of sixteen, instead of the treasure-obsessed young man he recently strived to be. Who knows, maybe this relationship with young Riley Poole could be the thing that grounds him to the present day. School friends, sports teams, after-school clubs. He needed someone his own age to confide in.

Riley walked into Ben's bedroom, and was surprised by the amount of paperwork strewn around the spacious room. Ben's bed and desk were littered with paperwork, books, and computer printouts taped to the wall.

"What is all this?" Riley asked, curious. "Schoolwork? Or more leisure research?"

Ben's jaw clenched. "Something like that," he said, stacking the paperwork on his bed, and moving it to his computer desk. Riley glanced at them. Some of the papers were about the founding fathers, others were sea charts of shipwrecks in the Atlantic ocean. Others were maps of Boston, and Washington D.C.

Ben sat down beside him and pulled out his dog-eared Hamlet book. They practised lines for nearly an hour, until Riley grew bored. He flopped backwards on Ben's bed, and stared at the ceiling.

"So, what's all that research about, anyway?" He asked. "And don't brush me off, this time."

"You really want to know?" Ben asked, lying down beside him.

"Yeah."

"Promise you won't laugh." Ben looked at him, a serious expression on his face.

"I won't laugh," Riley said, propping himself up on one elbow. "Just tell me – it's obviously important to you."

"Okay, a few years ago, my Grandpa told me a story," Ben told him. "It was 1832, and Charles Carroll was the last living signer of the Declaration of Independance. He woke up his stable boy, a boy named Thomas Gates, to take him to talk to the President."He proceeded to tell Riley about the Templar treasure, and the clue, 'the secret lies with Charlotte'.

"Wow," Riley said, staring enthralled at Ben. "That is amazing."

"Do you want to see something really cool?" Ben asked him, standing up. He pulled his Grandpa's old book off the bookcase, and carefully opened it. "This was my Grandpa's book, before he died. Him and my dad spent years searching for the treasure, but they never found it."

Riley picked up the photograph, and scrutinized it. "Is that your dad?" he asked.

Ben nodded. "Yeah," He said. "He lives in Philadelphia now. My parents divorced last year, and Mom got custody."

"Do you get to see him a lot?" Riley asked, curious. "My dad's in Iowa, but he never visits or calls or anything. I haven't seen him in a few years."

"I'm supposed to spend march break with him," Ben said.

Emily ordered pad thai, and curry. They ate around the large, circular oak island in the kitchen, the room quiet save for the clicking of their chopsticks.

"So Riley," Emily said. "How did you meet my son?"

"We met at the Hamlet auditions last week," Riley told her. His mouth was burning, so he took a gulp of milk, and continued eating.

"What grade are you in?" She asked. "You look pretty young for a high school student."

"_Mom_!" Ben warned. "Do you really have to interrogate him?"

"No, it's okay," Riley told him. "I actually skipped a grade. I'm in ninth grade, but I'm actually thirteen."

"Interesting," Emily said, smiling. "And what are your plans for after graduation?"

Riley shrugged. "Not sure yet."

"You are going to University after, right?" She asked him.

"Yeah," Riley said. "I just haven't decided where yet."

"That's fine, you still have to time to work on that."

Riley smiled at her. "Yeah," He said. Ben's mom looked incredibly stern, but so far, she seemed to be kind of nice.

"I'm just so glad to see my son bring home friends," Emily told him. "You're welcome over any time."

"Thanks," Riley said, quietly.

Before the divorce, Ben's house had been a warzone, when Patrick and Emily had been fighting every night. His only solace had been his research.

"_You indulge that boy way too much!" Patrick yelled. "He's got it in his head that he's going to find that damned treasure! It's all a myth – I should know, I wasted years searching. I don't want my son to waste his life, trying to unearth a treasure that doesn't even exist!" Patrick yelled, jabbing his finger at Emily. _

"_You used to believe it was real. Don't force him to give up on this. Benjamin needs this! I don't want you to convince your son otherwise, just because you gave up on finding that treasure."_

The divorce had meant that he rarely saw his dad, but it also meant he didn't have to hear them constantly argue. His mom's house was much quieter now. Riley was the first friend he'd brought home in six months, and he was glad that Riley appeared to be warming up to his mom. She had scared off a few friends in the past, her demeanor had been frosty to some of them.

Ben was glad that Riley hadn't been here before to witness the way his house had been, back when Patrick and Emily would fight for hours. The house would be filled with their angry, venomous words spilling into every room.

He'd kept himself locked away in his bedroom for hours, chatting on historical forums, talking with scholars and college students online, and reading up as much as could about his favourite subject, history. Ben swore that one day, he'd be able to find that fabled Templar Treasure, and prove his dad wrong. It was out there, somewhere. And he just _had_ to find it. That was so vital, to prove to his family, and all the skeptics that openly mocked his family for believing in such a preposterous myth.


End file.
